Distractions
by awesomesen
Summary: Of course, Kamui never dwells.


_i actually love kamui into bits, i just never write him for some reason. i'm a little unconfident with him, but i don't think i did too horrible a job here. _

* * *

x x x

* * *

Kamui woke up at promptly 9:45. Then, because there was no longer anyone else in the house to force him out of bed and to eat, he rolled over and went back to sleep again. 

He woke up around three.

Kamui really hadn't ever gotten around to cleaning up the house, to sorting through the books and discarded belongings, even though it had been easily six months. An end table in the living room had a book Arashi had been reading lying on top of three old issues of _Shonen Jump, _and a handful of sparkly barrettes that had probably belonged to Yuzuriha lay beside them.

Kamui went to the kitchen, drank a glass of milk, and felt restless.

Twitchy, that was it—impatient. Like there was something happening and Kamui didn't know what. There was a calendar on the wall still showing last December, a picture of Osaka Castle topping a few reminders and notes in Sorata's handwriting. He really should get around to taking it down, Kamui thought—he should, right now. Except that the garbage was already full, and trash day wasn't until tomorrow, and he didn't feel like opening a new trash bag and having the old one sit around the house. Tomorrow, then.

He put the glass in the sink with the other dishes, and went upstairs to get dressed. Kamui grabbed Yuzuriha's barrettes on the way, using them to pin his bangs back, the little butterflies on the ends upside down.

* * *

x x x

* * *

He went to Subaru's apartment for dinner. Subaru hadn't expected him but wasn't surprised at Kamui's sudden appearance; he stepped aside and lit another cigarette as Kamui marched into his kitchen and tied on an apron. 

When it became clear that Kamui intended to really cook a full dinner for them both, Subaru almost considered protesting. "Go take a shower," Kamui said, so Subaru did.

Restless.

Like there was something, somewhere, that Kamui—was missing. Had forgotten. He opened the windows to let in fresh air; the windows stuck from disuse. Subaru's apartment, as always, smelt like a cheap laundromat—half-hearted air freshener mixed with dirty clothes and cigarettes. Something. There had to be something. Something else Kamui was forgetting.

Subaru emerged from the bathroom with his hair dripping, the collar of his shirt dark with water. "You look anxious."

"I am," Kamui said. "Don't know why."

"If you started to go to school again," Subaru said, looking over at his cigarettes and clearly debating it in his head, "you might feel less so."

"It's not boredom," Kamui said. It was, though; of course it was. At barely sixteen, he had already fulfilled the purpose of his existence. Subaru's apartment was bare and clean for it, despite the stale smell; he thought of home, the laundry on Arashi's bed that she had been putting away and never finished. He needed to clean the house. He needed to sort through all those things. "It's like... have you ever had the feeling that your life would be so much better if..." Kamui stared at Subaru.

"Probably," Subaru said, breaking eye contact. Kamui still stared: _but I didn't know what I was going to say_, he thought, willing Subaru to read his mind. Subaru did not. Kamui knew that Subaru was still as bad as he had ever been, that Subaru just pretended hard for Kamui, so why was it that Kamui suddenly felt much worse off?

"I made grilled fish," he said. It was only slightly burnt. "Eat it or else."

* * *

x x x

* * *

He arrived home again slightly past ten, getting himself another glass of milk from the fridge before flopping down on the couch. He turned on the TV, and turned it off again and picked up Arashi's book off the table; the bookmark was in about halfway and he read from that page, not really absorbing any of the words. So he read manga instead, looking mostly at the pictures, until Keiichi arrived carrying two plastic bags of groceries. 

"I already ate," Kamui said, not looking up: "I bought it all this afternoon, but it's been in my fridge," Keiichi said, not listening.

_Restless. Rest, less_. Kamui gave up on the manga, not having been paying any attention to it to start with, wondering why Keiichi's appearance now was so annoying. Keiichi was over most nights, with food or an attempt at company—even though he was fine, didn't need or want the care-taking.

"Did you visit Subaru-san again?" Keiichi spoke from the kitchen, putting away Kamui's groceries.

"Yes."Kamui threw Arashi's book and the old manga onto the floor and looked at them there, blank. He wanted to _do_ something, feel something other than this... twitch. Why was he so angry? No. Not angry—nothing so strong. "I was going to clean this place up," he said. "Tomorrow."

This drew Keiichi out of the kitchen. "You are?"

"You going to help?"

"Of course. Yeah." Smiling as though proud, Keiichi went over to the couch and hesitantly sat down next to Kamui. "It's good, you know. It's not... good to, you know?"

"No." Anxious, that was it. Like there was something pent up inside of Kamui—something he needed to wash out. Release. He glanced at Keiichi sideways, and then again.

"Dwell," Keiichi started to say before Kamui pushed him, backwards onto the sofa's cushions. He made a surprised sound, flushing; Kamui pinned him down and sat on him, glaring.

"I don't need you coming here every day to check up on me. I remember to eat without being reminded."

Keiichi opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of words to say; he shifted, uncomfortable, under Kamui, who didn't budge. Straddling his friend, Kamui crossed his arms and looked down at Keiichi until he was tired of seeing Keiichi embarrassed; _anxious _and _restless_ and _release_. "Have you ever woken up and thought, 'If I get off, I'll feel better?'" Kamui asked.

"No," Keiichi said, sitting up slightly, elbows propping him up. He didn't try to move Kamui, who took the shift in position as a sign to unbutton Keiichi's uniform and give him a hickey. "Are you wearing barrettes?"

* * *

x x x

* * *


End file.
